Russ McKenzie had nothing against cops, but he hated bullies, no matter what form they came in. Being pushed around provoked him to a fighting rage. This made him doubly incensed because it meant losing control. In most respects, he kept his emotions under tight guard. Except with kids, of course. His warm response to children was part of the reason he’d become a pediatrician.
So when he’d heard a small, quavery voice asking for help and saw a rumpled child who complained of a sore knee, he hadn’t hesitated. To calm her, he’d offered a mint from his newly purchased roll, then checked her injury while asking where her parents might be. She’d explained, haltingly, that she’d followed a group of older children and lost her way.
He’d been relieved to spot an officer. But instead of receiving a thank-you for finding the child, he’d been roughed up and treated like a criminal until Marta and other hospital personnel had confirmed his whereabouts for the day. Russ didn’t like to think about how he’d have been treated had he met the child while arriving for work rather than departing.
He hadn’t had to go to the station, and he’d provided his statement and received an apology from Chief Lyons right there in the garage. Yet the perpetrator of the outrage stood scowling at him as if he were in the wrong. The officer might be pretty if she’d lose the pugnacious air and the odd, bicolored hair. Now that his initial anger had ebbed, he found her rather intriguing.
Leaning against a pillar, he rubbed one wrist where the cuff had chafed and tried to collect his thoughts. The last hour had sped by as more cops piled in, the media clamored for interviews and the little girl’s tearful parents arrived.
They’d been distressed to learn they had to wait for an all-clear from the hospital. Meanwhile, a detective had ushered them aside and plied them with additional questions. Russ was glad the police took the girl’s situation seriously. Her parents should have watched her more closely.
After obtaining the story, the news van and the local reporter had finally left. They’d treated Russ as a sort of hero, which he considered almost as ridiculous as being vilified.
Under the chief’s watchful eye, the truculent Officer Byers approached. “I, uh, guess I owe you an apology.”
Anger prevented a reply. He wasn’t ready to make peace yet.
“More,” said the chief.
“More what?” she inquired.
“You said you owe him an apology. You didn’t issue one.”
The woman’s jaw tightened until Russ feared she might require restorative dental work. In a strained voice, she uttered, “Sorry, sir. I was trying to protect the child.”
“She didn’t need protecting from me.” Russ supposed he ought to drop the matter, but her maltreatment had brought up deep-seated resentment. “When I moved here last month from west L.A., I hoped a small town would be a friendly place to live. Guess I was wrong.”
“We are friendly,” the chief protested. “Say, I have an idea how to atone for this misunderstanding. Rachel, why don’t you take the doctor on a ride-along tomorrow? It’s Saturday and maybe he’s off. He might enjoy a cop’s-eye view of Villazon.”
Any other chief would have backed off, fearful of a lawsuit. Lyons’s conciliatory tone reminded Russ of Dr. Graves’s assurance that the police department was bending over backward to safeguard its reputation.
As for the officer, she looked as if she were considering taking up long-distance marathon running—in the opposite direction. Ross found the prospect of discomfiting her further amusing. Besides, what better way to get acquainted with his adopted hometown?
“I accept,” he announced. “What time?”
“Sorry. I’m off-duty tomorrow and the next two days after that.” Rachel didn’t bother to hide her relief. Ironically, her more relaxed mood revealed an intriguing warmth. Definitely a woman of many layers, Russ thought.
“You have three days off?” He wondered what kind of schedule these cops worked.
“We work five nine-hour days in a row, then three off,” she responded. “Working nine hours lets us overlap patrols so the crooks can’t take advantage of shift change.”
The chief persisted. “Well then, how about a ride-along next week, Doctor?”
Officer Byers’s mouth twisted. Her annoyance nearly spurred Russ to accept, but he had patients scheduled. Also, he was curious about this woman. He’d never met anyone quite like her. “Next Saturday will be soon enough. You are on duty then, aren’t you?”
She squirmed. “I’d rather not have this hanging over my head. I’m sure the Chamber of Commerce can provide you with a tour guide.”
The chief folded his arms. Rachel sighed so profoundly that Russ had to sympathize. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll drive the doctor around tomorrow on my free day, although I’m sure I’ll bore the socks off him.”
The woman’s bluntness tickled him. “Whatever you’d like to show me, I’m sure I’ll find it fascinating.”
“Ten, fifteen minutes and you’ll be either screaming to go home or fast asleep.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Russ supposed he must be nuts to want to view local landmarks with an Amazon who apparently wished he would drop off the face of the earth. Maybe he’d spent too many evenings alone, catching up on medical journals and staring at the sparsely furnished rooms of his house. Except for the old friend who’d encouraged him to move here, he didn’t have anyone to hang out with in Villazon. For whatever reason, the prospect of spending a few hours in Rachel Byers’s company appealed to him.
The chief’s cell rang. He listened with evident satisfaction. “Excellent. I’m sure the parents are more than ready to take her home.”
“She’s okay?” Russ asked when the chief clicked off. Until now he’d been so distracted he hadn’t considered that perhaps the girl really had suffered a misadventure during her lost hours.
“A sore knee where she fell on it, nothing more.” Lyons shook hands with Russ. “Thanks for finding Miss Franco. I can’t tell you how glad we are that she ended up in your hands rather than someone else’s.”
“Me, too.” Russ scribbled his home address on the back of a business card and handed it to Rachel. “What time?”
“Three o’clock.” The words came out clipped.
“Suits me.”
She met his gaze. “You really did look suspicious.”
“Officer Byers!” snapped the chief.
“I’m gone.” She made tracks for her patrol car.
“Quite a character,” Russ observed.
“She’s conscientious. A good cop.” The chief reiterated his regret at the way Russ had been treated.
“I’m glad we worked it out,” he responded.
In no hurry to leave, Russ watched Lyons’s vehicle and a black-and-white depart in tandem. Officer Byers lingered beside her cruiser, absentmindedly rubbing her hip as she scribbled notes on a clipboard.
Being knocked against a pillar must have left a bruise. The fact that his own body ached from the way she’d man-handled him didn’t diminish Russ’s regret at inflicting pain. “Sorry if I hurt you,” he called.
Her face came up. Wide cheekbones, clear hazel eyes. “Oh, hey, I can always use a workout.” With a wave, she slid inside.
Not the type to hold a grudge, he thought. That impressed him.
Left alone in the echoing garage, Russ felt his mood plummet. Maybe he missed the excitement. No, not really. Or was it Rachel’s stubborn frankness? Well, a little.